Page 71 of The Lass Defied the Laird (Explosive Highlanders 1)

Her hands advanced. His breath disorganised. “You cannot be thinking— “ He began.

Her lips kissed the inner skin, inhaling him. His arousal. Her hand reached far, deep under the plaid. His sensuous mouth emitted something akin torturous sensation.

She bared his thighs. “Shh, Taran.” She uncovered his impressive manhood. “I have been desiring to do this for days.”

As she found his hard, veined shaft, she put out the index to trace the prominent organ in a feather caress that seemed to take him to desperation. He was magnificent silky, hard and hot.

Ruddy colour came to his sculpted cheekbones. “You have been—oh!” Her mouth found its goal. Hungry.

“Damn you, Aileen!” His head fell back.

One hand closed around his base while her mouth covered the engorged tip of him, restless tongue doing its job.

She probed his knees wider, his big hand came to her head.

She savoured him with such gusto, his breath hitched. The salty tang of him caused her centre to flood.

“I should have done this that day.” As she held it, her tongue traced the under part.

Devouring him, she lowered further and further, only to go back to the beginning and do it again. The hairs on his leg tickled her nipples as she advanced and retreated.

“Which one.” He wore a tormented expression on him.

Air serrated in and out of his lips. He could hardly keep his eyes open.

Her hand moved up and down his length. He groaned. “When you tried to convince me to…” the hand snuggled the tip. “Marry you.” Her mouth covered him again.

He must have gone bigger for she could take less of him. She gratified her lips with that hot granite sculpture.

He grunted. “Had you done it,” he panted, “I would have…” his pelvis moved towards her, “dragged you…” she took more of him, “to the remotest cottage…” her tongue caressed the slit, “never to come back.”

Her hand and her mouth accelerated. His features contorted. The mouth hungrier. His head fell back. Tongue restless. Then he screamed as he filled her mouth with his passion. And she did not let go until she got the last drop.

While she buttoned her clothes up, she observed his relaxed features, his tall body sprawled on the chair.

“Expect a payback.” He warned, lax.

A side smile came to her lips. “I am counting it.”

~.~.~

On the next day, Aileen rode to the village to order those cakes for Christmas. As she left the baker’s, she ran into Gracie.

The village consisted of one street with shops and the church where the gathering to present her to the clan took place.

“My lady.” She greeted cheerful.

“Gracie.” She devolved. “Please, we need no formality. Call me Aileen.”

The crisp weather came with a chilli wind blowing through the naked trees as the sun struggled to peer through thick clouds.

“Yes, my—Aileen.” She and Seamus were Taran’s closest friends and kin. “I have got news.” She started. “My Nora has just given birth to Bonnie.”

Nora, her daughter in her late twenties and Bonnie the granddaughter.

“Oh, Gracie!” Aileen answered. “I am so happy for her.”

“So am I, my—oh, Aileen.” Her smile stretched from one end to the other of her round face. “My first grandchild.”

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